ADRIFT
by Isir
Summary: Altaïr lunged at him. He flicked his hidden blade from his sleeve, but was countered with a similar weapon. "Tell me who you are," he spoke, face just a few inches away from the other. Oneshot


ADRIFT

"I can barely grasp how stiff you always are…" the young woman said with a sigh. She looked up to the tall, massive man.

He in turn looked down at her. Only his mouth and nose visible because of his white hood. Then he looked at the sea again. "How so?" he replied.

"Sometimes you just seem a bit curt." She too watched the waves in the water. It was a beautiful sight. "You keep so many things to yourself. It makes you distant. You don't have to carry all your burdens alone. …It's a choice."

"So you must know it is a choice I made."

She wanted to touch him, put a hand on his strong arm, but she repressed her desires. Instead, she watched his strong features. "I hope you will warm up to the people who sincerely care about you."

الله أكبر

Pitch black sky. The night was quiet. He could barely distinguish road from wall. His eyes itched because of his exhaustion. A yawn made its way to his face. He straightened his back. He needed to go home. He walked down the streets in a fast pace, passing a guard.

"Hey!" The man darted forward, his uniform rattling loudly in the silent night. He reached out to grab the hooded man's arm, but the other's reflexes were far better than his. With a simple turn of the hand he had knocked the guard out.

What a joke. Depending on such weakling to protect their cities. Jerusalem was ruled by the corrupted. They would get what they deserved.

His attention was drawn by a shuffling sound from above. He looked up to the roofs. There was a man, but he could barely keep the silhouette apart from the dark sky. The mysterious person moved forward till he stood against the edge of the roof.

The wind swept quietly through the air.

"Do you think what you are doing is justice?" the man spoke in a low voice.

"Who are you?" the other replied. He took a step forward. "Come down."

Surprisingly the man complied to his request and jumped down, easily landing on his feet. Now just a few foot away from the other, he could see that he too was wearing a hooded robe under his cape, but it looked nothing like the brotherhood's robes. "If you think that you are freeing Jerusalem, then you are an arrogant, _ignorant_ fool," the man continued in a harsh voice.

"What do you know?" the other replied, clenching his fists.

"I know who you are. Who you work for, who you talk to… I know you, Altaïr."

As soon as the name had left the others mouth, Altaïr lunged at him. He flicked his hidden blade from his sleeve, but was countered with a similar weapon. "Tell me who you are," Altaïr spoke, face just a few inches away from the other. He pushed his blade towards the other's throat, the metal screeching as the blades slid against each other, but the other did not seem to have trouble countering Altaïr. When he jumped back, Altaïr mimicked his movement.

He pulled out his sword and lowered his stance. "Should I kill you before you tell me?" he spoke with a deep voice.

"Such eagerness to kill." The man shook his head in disapproval. "You're just a child!" he snarled. "Ignorant of everything around you. What has become of you?" There was pain in his voice.

Altaïr did not answer. He was a little taken aback by this situation. Suddenly he noticed the missing finger on the man's right hand. Right hand? Was he an left-handed assassin from the brotherhood?

The man wrapped his hand around his right hand. "Yes," he answered to Altaïr's thoughts, "I was once an assassin like yourself. Serving under Al Mualim."

"So you are a traitor," Altaïr stated.

The man lowered his arms in a form of yield. "I left the brotherhood. If you called that traitorous, then yes, I am a traitor."

"Who are you? What business do you have with the brotherhood?"

Slowly the man reached for his hood and pulled it back to reveal himself. The brown pair of eyes that looked at the assassin drove him to stagger back. The cheekbones, the strong features; it was as if he was looking at an older version of himself.

"State your name!" Altaïr called out of breath.

* * *

A/N: At some point I really had older Ezio in my mind when writing this! This is just a bit I wrote for fun. You make from it what you want :) Assalamu alaikum brothers and sisters. *heart*


End file.
